January 2011
12 posts
December 2010
16 posts
3 tags
Carver was trapped. A stretch of tumbling, spumous water fifty yards across separated him from his freedom, and he didn’t like his chances in the storm.
“This is the end, Carver,” said Bond.
Carver, white-faced, nodded. “Will you make sure Mary’s alright, Neale? She has no clue I’m mixed up in all of this.”
Neale nodded, pursed his lips and shot Carver in the chest. He watched the man...